Sunday, July 3, 2016

Marked

I recently heard a great story—a true story—on the radio,
told by a young man from New Mexico.He was traveling in rural India, in a tribal area in the northeast of
the country—a region of mountains, jungles, and wild animals.He found the local people fascinating
and exotic, and eventually realized they must find him a bit exotic, too, since
very few Westerners ever visited.

The young man had been traveling for an extended period of
time—more than a year.He had lost
some weight.While normally dark complected,
his skin was even darker than usual from all the time he’d spent in the
sun.And he’d given up on shaving
or cutting his hair, growing a bushy beard and hair down to his shoulders.

While hitchhiking one day, his driver told him about an
incredible place: the most religious, most pious village in the region, which
he simply had to see.(The area
had once been frequented by Christian missionaries.)So, after having been dropped off, the young man headed
right for the main square of this town.Normally, the first ones to see him walking into a village were the
children and the pets—and, on seeing a stranger, they would scamper off and
hide.In this village, some
children were out playing in the square, as usual, but when they looked up and
saw him, they instead fell to their knees and held hands.One of the little boys pulled out a
small picture; he’d look at the picture, then at the young man—back and forth
again and again.When the young
man got close enough, he could see that it was a picture of Jesus.

“They think I’m Jesus Christ!” he realized.

So the young man decided to have a little fun.He crossed his ankles, held his arms straight
out from his sides, and hung his head.It had the desired effect: the children gasped.But the next thing he knew, the young
man was writhing in pain on the ground.As he gathered his wits about him, he realized that one of the little
boys had gotten up off his knees, formed a fist, and punched him as hard as he
could in—let's just say—a place that would really, really hurt.As the young man began to get up, a
woman from the village came running toward him.“My son,” she said in her broken English.“My son angry.My son loved his grandmother.When she died, we told him Jesus
took her away….”

As St. Paul concludes his letter to the Galatians, he
writes: “I bear the marks of Jesus on my body” (Gal 6:17).For Paul, faith in Jesus was much more
than an idea in his head or a feeling in his heart; it was something he
experienced in a physical way, leaving its mark on his body.For Paul, those marks came from
beatings and stonings, from being shackled and nearly drowned, from being left
for dead.It was no figure of
speech when he wrote, “I bear the marks of Jesus on my body.”Following Jesus was written into his
flesh for all to see.

What does it look like today to bear the marks of Jesus on
our bodies?It looks like the dirt
lodged deep under a man’s fingernails because, instead of going golfing, he
gave up a Saturday afternoon to do yard work for an elderly neighbor.It looks like the dark circles around a
young mother’s eyes as her three little kids climb onto to and off of her
lap—she and her husband recognizing that children are not a burden, but a
blessing.It looks like the
priest in a tattered clerical shirt, who realized a parishioner needed new
clothes more than he did.It looks
like the woman who, despite the pain, always leaves chemotherapy smiling
because any day lived with and in and for Jesus is the very best day of her
life.

It’s good for us to reflect, “How might I bear the marks of
Jesus on my body?”But let’s do
so, not in some hypothetical way, but specifically and concretely—and not about
something we might eventually get to, but something that we can do today,
tomorrow, or this week.Just
remember: if you’re going to imitate Jesus, then you’d better be willing to pay
the price.

Mary, Virgin and Mother

We fly to your patronage,O holy Mother of God;despise not our petitions

in our necessities,but deliver us from all evil,O glorious and blessed Virgin.

Saint Joseph

Pray for us!

"St. Joseph was

an ordinary sort of man

on whom God relied

to do great things."

--St. Josemaria Escriva

Saint Barnabas

Pray for us!

"...Joseph,

also named by the apostles Barnabas

(which is translated

son of encouragement)..."

--Acts 4:36

Saint Bruno

Pray for us!

"Only those who have experienced

the solitude and silence

of the wilderness

can know the benefit and divine joy

they bring to those who love them."

--St. Bruno

(1030-1101)

Saint Francis of Assisi

Pray for us!

"You should never let anyone

leave your presence in sadness."

--St. Francis of Assisi

(1181-1226)

Saint Philip Neri

Pray for us!

"A servant of God

ought always to be happy."

--St. Philip Neri

(1515-1595)

Saint John Francis Regis

Pray for us!

"No violence of cold, no snows...,

no mountains, or torrents...,

could be an obstacle to his zeal."

--comment of a contemporary

of St. John Francis Regis

(1597-1640)

Saint John Mary Vianney

Pray for us!

"Our faults

are like grains of sand

next to the great mountain

of the mercies of God."

--St. John Vianney

(1786-1859)

Saint Thérèse of Lisieux

Pray for us!

"The value of life does not depend

upon the place we occupy;

it depends upon the way

we occupy that place."

--St. Thérèse of Lisieux

(1873-1897)

Saint André Bessette

Pray for us!

"It is with the smallest brushes

that the Artist paints

the most exquisitely

beautiful pictures."

--St. André Bessette

(1845-1937)

Blessed Charles de Foucauld

Pray for us!

"The absence of risk

is a sure sign

of mediocrity."

--Blessed Charles de Foucauld

(1858-1916)

Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati

Pray for us!

"The higher we go,

the better we shall hear

the voice of Christ."

--Blessed Pier Girogio Frassati

(1901-1925)

Saint John Paul II

Pray for us!

"Up to the evening of your life

remain in wonder and gratitude

for that mysterious call

which one day echoed

in the depths of your spirit:

Follow me!”

--Blessed John Paul II

(1920-2005)

Keep smiling!

“I’m not a man who constantly thinks up jokes. But I think it’s very important to be able to see the funny side of life and its joyful dimension and not to take everything too tragically. I’d also say it’s necessary for my ministry. A writer once said that angels can fly because they don't take themselves too seriously. Maybe we could also fly a bit if we didn’t think we were so important.”